


Interludes

by Nightbirdsong



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Birthday Present, Drama, I'm not lying, M/M, Smut, This doesn't make any sense, and a sprinkle of smut, very artistic smut but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14967008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightbirdsong/pseuds/Nightbirdsong
Summary: Minseok and Baekhyun always fell into bed with each other a little too easily. And they fell apart even quicker.At 2 am, the world seems cruel and grey. And all Baekhyun has left is a black and white photograph.This is a birthday present, doesn't have a real story line and kinda got out of hand.Or: Minseok and Baekhyun have issues.





	Interludes

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in three days, for my dearest one-and-only husband T, whose birthday is on Tuesday!  
> Happy birthday, angel! I love you lots and I really hope you like this mess of a story. I know I promised you shameless smut, but Jacob Lee happened.  
> I'm sweating as I'm typing this. 
> 
> This story was heavily inspired by a RP plot we had and it doesn't really make sense.  
> It's inspired by a story I once read (when it comes to the structure of things, seeing as it isn't chronological at all and switching back and forth between past and present) but I can't remember the title for the LIFE of me. Rip.
> 
> THIS isn't proof read. At all. Not at all and I'm sorry for that.

Part 1: It helped through the wars and the hangovers, the back alley fights and hospitals

The aftermath of things is, for Baekhyun, the grime and grease and squeaking rexin of a diner booth underneath his ass, the sweat on his hands and roots of his hair, the taste of stale coffee mixing in with blood and the little bit of Vodka left in his pocket bottle. Around him the diner is nearly silent, the waitress working the graveyard shift more asleep than awake where she is standing by the coffee maker, the handle of the pot between her limp fingers as she stares at the wall, her face void of emotion. He feels her expression on a spiritual level, he thinks with a bitter smile as he takes another sip of his stale, lukewarm coffee. It’s bitter, not nearly as strong as Baekhyun needs it right now. But perhaps he is a little spoiled, after all those cups of nice, chocolate-y espresso he had over these past few months. His phone lies black and silent in front of him as well and Baekhyun thinks with a wry little smile that, perhaps, it’s just as asleep as the trucker on the other side of the aisle, his head tipped back against the booth, his greasy, stained baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

There is nothing good about nights past two am. 

Not anymore and maybe there never really was. With a sigh he pushes his cup away from himself and reaches for his phone, sliding it unlocked with a quick swipe of his thumb. The screen is cracked and yet the picture he set as his background is still a little too clear. A hand, wrapped around a cremé coffee mug, a crack at the rim facing the camera. A single, golden ring gleaming on a slender, slightly bony ring finger.  
He feels a little stupid - crazy even - as he opens his kakaotalk app, letting his finger hover over the familiar circular of a gray little cat. In the past hour, he did this three times and there is still no change to the chatroom. The background is still black and white, the little “1” gone next to his last message.  
“I’m sure you must be busy now.”  
“Why else would you ignore me?”  
He wonders, if there will ever be an answer. 

It’s his own fault, he thinks while sighing and leaning back in his booth, stretching his legs out underneath the table as his phone clunks down onto the table top, missing the little bit of spilled coffee by just an inch or less. It’s his mistake that has him sitting here now, as if nothing changed at all. Nothing changed, in the end. For him, the aftermath is the same war inside his head, the same sleepless nights and stale coffee.  
The soles of his worn out sneakers squeak loudly across the linoleum floor, the rips in his jeans catch on his knees and he winces, imagines the ghost of fingers pushing into the holes of his pants as a warm body presses into his side, a chuckle hidden inside a coffee cup. But in the end, perhaps he was wrong from the very start. He was the one pushing, always. The one to demand attention and never asking questions, even though he knew he probably should.  
He was aware of the fact that he was clingy and pushy, but he always is. And it never seemed to be a problem. There were never any guidelines or FAQ to this…. thing. Was it even a relationship? 

To one of them it certainly was. 

Baekhyun just isn’t sure anymore, if it was him.  
He makes for his phone again, this time letting his keyboard pop open as his fingers are already flying across the screen, typing out a single question: “Hey. I know I’m annoying and you probably blocked me… But can I come over?”  
The little yellow “1” disappears almost instantly, even before he can exit the chatroom and he feels himself freeze, the air stuck in his throat on a slow exhale while he stares down at the black and white screen, at the shame he feels whenever he is looking at the countless messages he typed out over these past five days.  
“Why?”, comes the simply reply and Baekhyun feels his eyes burn, his eyelashes fluttering to blink away the tears starting to cling to his lashes. It’s such a simple word, such a simple question. 

Why. 

But is there really an answer to that? 

“I can’t sleep.”

I miss you, he wants to type out but he’s done that a million times already. He asked for a million things in the span of five days and now he is starting to think that it all he ever did.  
“I know it’s asking a lot. But we never really talked about it.”  
“What is there to talk about?”, pops up on his screen and Baekhyun frowns, taps his fingers against the table before he types back: “Please”  
“Are you drunk?”  
“A little”, he confesses and there is a long pause of no answer, the silence between them stretching once more. He thinks of the bedroom on the other side of the line, illuminated by nothing but the screen, of the white and blue background of their chat on the other phone, the silly picture of the comic elephant he put there.  
“I already guessed that.”, eventually shows up underneath his message and he is already typing, when a second message flashes into existence. “Alright. Don’t ring the doorbell, tho.”  
The coffee is bitter and cold as he empties his cup and throws down a couple of bills onto the table, slowly soaking up the puddle of coffee he leaves behind. 

The first time he ever saw Minseok, he was dressed in a white shirt, complete with vest and pants, sans the blazer Baekhyun knows he normally wears. He doesn’t expect the man to look nearly the same at 3:28 in the morning, his black hair mussed and remainders of black smeared into the corners of his eyes. He’s used to the feeling of being lesser than Minseok, of never being good enough. Minseok is the one owning the suits and ties, the loafers and cashmere sweaters. Baekhyun himself barely has any dress shirts or suit pants in his closet, filled to the brim with ripped jeans and shirts of various colors. But at nearly four in the morning, Minseok normally wears his standard grey sweats, a tank thrown over or nothing at all. Baekhyun remembers him like that at night, but never like this. Not really, no.  
He feels like a drenched rat, even though it’s not raining and the air outside is humid and pregnant with the promise of a thunderstorm.  
“You look… fancy.”, he gets out past his clogged throat and the corner of Minseok’s lip curls - in disgust or amusement, Baekhyun suddenly isn’t sure anymore. He thought he knew, by now.  
But apparently, he never really did.  
“I got home a hour ago.”, Minseok tells him as he steps aside to let Baekhyun into the apartment, pointing to his shoes with a movement that is more habit than anything else, Baekhyun already toeing off his sneakers and pushing them into the space left for his shoes, between Minseok’s own. There is a pair of running shoes, unfamiliar to him and Baekhyun suddenly feels as if someone is squeezing a hand around his throat, pushing the air from his lungs.  
“Had a date?”, he jokes bitterly and Minseok makes a small sound in the back of his throat, as if he’s not sure of the answer he should give him. 

“Yes.”, he finally replies softly and Baekhyun turns to face him where he is standing in the doorway of his kitchen, leaned against the frame with one shoulder, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his pants. He looks tense, even while his stance is relaxed and Baekhyun breathes in, swallowing the need to reach out and touch him. Five days ago, he would have smoothed down the wrinkles in Minseok’s shirt, would have stepped close and pressed into the other man’s personal space, asking for a kiss. And Minseok would have given him that kiss.  
“Was it a nice date?”, Baekhyun asks, waving a hand down at the running shoes and Minseok’s eyes follow the movement of his fingers down to the floor, before they flicker up to his face again, his head cocking to the side in momentary confusion.  
“What do you want at nearly four in the morning, Baekhyun?”, he asks and he sounds pained, as if he wasn’t the one kicking Baekhyun out the other night. A night filled with screaming and broken glass and, if Baekhyun is honest with himself, broken hearts as well.  
“I… don’t know. I wanted to see you.”  
“Why?”, Minseok wants to know quietly and his voice is so small, so not-Minseok, he dares to step a little closer, reaching out to press the tips of his fingers against the other’s ribs, just underneath his heart. He feels Minseok breathing in, startled and yet he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t push and Baekhyun lets his fingers rest there, together with his gaze.  
“You get so alone at times that it just makes sense.”

 

Interlude: It happens and happens and continues to 

“Charles Bukowski.”, Baekhyun declares while plopping down into the couch cushions next to Minseok, his feet on the coffee table with a wide grin plastered onto his lips.  
“What?”, Minseok makes, swatting at his legs until Baekhyun lets his feet drop down to the carpet, twisting on the couch until he is able to hook his chin onto the other’s shoulder. Minseok goes a little cross-eyed, trying to look down at him with his eyebrows raised and Baekhyun’s grin only widens.  
“You were quoting him the other night and you couldn’t remember what it was.”, he tells Minseok and watches his nose scrunch up in confusion.  
“Did I, now?”, Minseok asks, bemused and Baekhyun nods, laughing when he hears Minseok hiss in annoyed half-pain when his chin digs a little too hard into his shoulder.  
“You quoted a sentence from the poem 1813 to 1883.”  
“And you went and looked that up?”, Minseok laughs in incredulous shock while Baekhyun shifts on the cushions, scooting closer until he is able to pull himself into Minseok’s lap, pushing both the remote control and his phone away with the width of his leg. The other’s hands settle on his hips almost naturally, fingertips brushing up underneath the hem of his shirt to dance across his waistband, before warm palms are smoothing down his thighs, resting by his knees.  
“Yep.”, Baekhyun grins, fingers drumming a small beat across Minseok’s chest. “Tell me how amazing I am, please. I remembered the entire quote aaaaaand… I got you this.”

He tips to the side, pulling the small, tattered book from the back pocket of his jeans, holding it out for Minseok to read the tire, printed in large, colorful letters across the cover.  
“You… get so alone at times that is just… makes sense.”, Minseok reads with squinted eyes, leaning back just a little to be able to see properly and Baekhyun clicks his tongue.  
“Where are your glasses?”, he asks and Minseok raises a brow, his lips quirking in amused teasing.  
“Who says I’m not wearing contacts today?”  
“I do.”, Baekhyun quips and hits the other’s forehead with the top of the book held out between them, just hard enough for the pages to emit a satisfying “hump”. “You wouldn’t be squinting, if you were.”  
Minseok only hums, slowly taking the book from between Baekhyun’s fingers to carefully putting it down next to them, his fingers then flickering over Baekhyun’s cheek, until he is cupping his face, fingers cradling his jaw.  
“You’re cute when you’re trying to give me presents.”, he tells him with that smile that has his eyes crinkling and his voice go tender and Baekhyun smiles right back, feeling the apples of his cheeks rise so high, they are nearly hiding his eyes.  
“Will you read something for me?”, he whispers just as Minseok leans up to kiss him, his words half broken off by the contact of soft, slim lips against his own. He sighs into the liplock, letting his eyes flutter shut while he leans forward, arms wrapping around Minseok’s neck to pull him closer and yet there is nothing close to desire in their kiss. It’s so tender, it has his heart aching inside his chest.  
Minseok pulls at the hem of his shirt then, with fingers that are more asking than demanding and Baekhyun shudders at the feeling of warm hands sliding over his ribs and across his back, holding him across the shoulder blades, their chests pressed together. He can feel Minseok’s heart beating against his ribs even through the layers of muscle, skin and clothes and it feels as if it’s beating just as fast as his own. And yet, Baekhyun isn’t sure if it’s for the same reason at all. He hums into their kiss then, fingers twirling soft black locks around his knuckles until Minseok is moaning at the sting on his scalp, his mouth opening just enough for Baekhyun’s tongue to push inside without preamble. The first touch of their tongues is nearly hesitant - so soft, it’s as if they are kissing for the first time. But the way Minseok swings them to the side, makes sure Baekhyun’s head doesn’t hit the armrest too hard, covers his body with his own… all those things speak of something that is practiced, even though it feels new every time. At least to Baekhyun it does. 

They fall into bed with each other so easily - from the very beginning they did. At first Baekhyun thought it was strange, how easy it was for the both of them to fall into each other.  
Sometimes it’s the only thing they do and while it was just that at the start of whatever this is, Baekhyun thinks he prefers their quiet evenings even more than the ones where Minseok’s hands leave burning trails on his skin, where Baekhyun’s fingernails leave bloody bruises on the other’s back in the throes of pleasure. And yet there is something that keeps him on his toes with Minseok, no matter how many times he finds himself in the other’s bed, blinking against the haze of pleasure that seems to cling to his bones when Minseok touches him with purpose and desire.  
“Soft and s-safe”, Baekhyun manages to stutter out between his gasping breaths, fingers twisting both the pages and the sheets by the side of his head, his eyes flickering in and out of focus with tears.  
“They gather together to - Jesus fuck I can’t d-do this.”  
“Keep going.”, Minseok mutters into the skin of his lower back, voice tinged with rough lust and amusement. “We’re not done with the paragraph yet.”  
“Shit.”, Baekhyun curses, fumbling for the book in front of him while he feels the ghost of Minseok’s breath dampen his skin, a teasing nip to the side of his ass, before Minseok’s fingers spread him open again, gripping hard into the flesh of his cheeks. He stutters for breath, sucking in air almost desperately as if he’s drowning.  
“... together to plot, hate, gossip…”

He breaks off with a moan at the touch of the other’s tongue back to his rim, the width of his tongue pressing insistently against his hole, not quite breaching and still taunting. Pushing him to the edge without even doing anything but touch him.  
“Most of these American poets pushing and hustling their t-talents, pla-”  
A breath, nothing more than a sigh as Minseok grips him a little tighter, pushes his knees further apart to plunder into him in earnest now, his grin evident against Baekhyun’s overheated skin.  
“Playing at greatness.”, Baekhyun rushes out, all but throwing the book off the bed while he presses his face into the pillow under his head, stretching his arms out across the mattress until his fingertips touch the headboard above, his back arching.  
“Done?”, Minseok chuckles behind him, rubbing soothing circles into his lower back while Baekhyun mewls, nodding furiously. “Are you sure? That poem isn’t long anymore.”  
“Fuck Bukowski.”, he replies with a hiss, swatting a hand behind himself without even looking, sure that he is missing Minseok by more than a couple of inches. “Get back to work.”  
“Bossy.”, Minseok clicks his tongue and yet he bends down instantly, spreading Baekhyun apart as far as he can, his tongue pushing into him hot and wet and Baekhyun feels a shudder run down his spine. He sighs out a moan, a praise maybe - but really, who is listening?  
“Bukowski would be scandalized by this.”, he groans out, pushing back against Minseok’s face and into another thrust of the other’s tongue, accompanied by a finger curling into him.  
“I think he would be rather amused and strangely honored. Charles wasn’t exactly the most honorable man in existence.”, Minseok snickers out against Baekhyun’s left cheek, resting his chin there for a moment while he crooks two of his fingers inside of him, twisting them until Baekhyun is yelping with overwhelming pleasure, his entire body shivering with the shock of sudden satisfaction.  
“I think the…. the one amused here is cl-cl-clearly you.”, Baekhyun shoots back as best as he can, but he doesn’t sound as nearly as witty as he would like to be and Minseok’s grin, hidden in his flesh, is only more fire to fuel his shame.  
But how can he be ashamed, when Minseok presses a tender kiss to his spine, shuffling behind him until Baekhyun feels him bend forward, chest to back and arm trapped between their bodies to steadily work him to an orgasm Baekhyun is sure is going to wreck him.  
“Mhm”, Minseok hums into his ear, kissing the shell. “I think you’re right about that.”

“Do you sometimes think you should have kicked me out of that cab?”, Baekhyun asks, his feet resting in Minseok’s lap as they watch the horizon pale with silver and blue, hints of yellow breaking through the clouds as the sun slowly rises. The city around them is slowly waking up, the streets underneath still silent aside from the occasional car passing by, a dog barking in the distance and the faintest noises of someone out for a run, early in the morning.  
“Should I?”, Minseok asks him with a raised eyebrow, his head tilted to the side in this particular way that has him looking like a curious dog in a very weird way. He has his own feet propped up against the banister of his balcony, one hand resting on Baekhyun’s ankles, the other holding a coffee cup against his chest, the steam framing his face.  
“I don’t know.”, Baekhyun shrugs, taking a sip of his tea and scooting down a little bit more in his chair. “I was just wondering… I mean-”  
“Stop.”, Minseok suddenly interrupts him and while he sounds tender, there is a hard edge to his voice as well. “Don’t ruin this for you too, Baekhyun. You tend to think too much.”  
“Excuse me?”, Baekhyun makes, nearly spilling his tea when Minseok pinches the side of his leg.  
“It’s true.”, Minseok tells him sternly, pointing a finger at him. “You tend to ruin things for yourself, because you’re thinking too much. Yes, okay, maybe I should have kicked you out of my cab and let you walk home during a thunderstorm. Or I should have gotten out and taken the next one. Or you shouldn’t have picked up my phone when I left it in the car and find me to return it. There are a thousand things we could think about, Baekhyun. But who says we wouldn’t have met again and I would have asked you for coffee anyways?”  
“Are you talking about fate, old man?”, Baekhyun teases and while Minseok really isn’t that much older, the crease between his eyebrows makes him look as if he has at least ten years on him, now.  
“I’m talking about…”, he begins, breaking himself off with a huff and a shake of his head. “I wouldn’t change a single thing. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

 

Part 2: He wasn’t bitter, even though he had every right to be 

The little yellow book - tattered and ripped and smeared with pencil, paint and sharpie - is still sitting on Minseok’s coffee table. It is like a beacon of light in the dimly lit living room, only the paper lamp by the couch turned on and casting a golden glow across the grey wallpaper, grey carpet and wooden furniture. There are several other books strewn into the space underneath the table, peeking through with colors of their covers and yet Baekhyun can only look at the yellow cover of Bukowski, staring back at him as if to mock him.  
“So.”, Minseok says from the cabinet in the corner, turning around with a tumbler of Whisky in his hand, the bronze liquid making his hand seem as white as paper, a crystal reflection thrown across his arm where he has the sleeve of his shirt rolled up to his elbow. “What exactly do you want?”  
“I already told you.”, Baekhyun whispers, stubbing his toe into the carpet and pushing his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans. “I missed you.”  
“Missed or miss?”, Minseok asks and he sound vulnerable all over again. “There is a difference between those words, Baekhyun.”  
“Isn’t is obvious?”  
“Not exactly, no.”, Minseok shakes his head and sinks down into his armchair, stretching his legs out between them, as if to keep Baekhyun on a leash, a distance. “That’s why I’m asking.”  
“Why are you playing all high and mighty with me now, hm?”, Baekhyun snaps and feels like stomping his foot. “I-”  
“You’re the one texting me in the middle of the night and coming by without a real reason.”  
“I have a reason!”, Baekhyun nearly yells and Minseok’s black eyebrows shoot up into his soft black fringe. “Stop treating me like I don’t.”  
“Well.”, Minseok shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, hissing through the sting of the alcohol. “There is no reason for you to be here right now, let’s be honest about that, alright? We’re over. Oh wait. According to you, there was never a thing to really be over, right?”  
“Do you even listen to yourself sometimes?!”, Baekhyun growls and Minseok gives him a cold, scrutinizing look. “Of course there was something-”  
“Was there?”, Minseok cuts him off and there is this tone in his voice again. This hurt and pain and longing and Baekhyun desperately wants to touch him again, feel his heartbeat to see if it is still drumming the same beat as his own. If there is still affection left in Minseok’s soul. 

“Min.”, he only says and watches Minseok’s shoulders go rigid. There is something written on his face, hidden in the way he blinks rapidly and presses his lips together into a thin, white line. And Baekhyun doesn’t have a name for it.  
“I was good enough to try and save you.”, Minseok whispers into the space between them and his voice finally breaks. “I was good enough to stitch you back together when death was a plant growing in your mind, wasn’t I? And then… when you were healed and well and happy… a different cock was better than mine. Isn’t that right, Baekhyun?”  
“No.”, Baekhyun tells him earnestly and Minseok’s features twist into a grimace. “That’s not true and you know it. We both know it. I didn’t… we never… You weren’t just that to me.”  
“Then what was I?”, Minseok wants to know silently. Hoping. “Tell me what I was, then.”  
“Are.”, Baekhyun correct him, swallowing down his tears. “You are.”

They sit in silence for a hour, after.  
There is a pot of freshly brewed coffee between them - a white, handcrafted thing Baekhyun once dropped and broke the handle of - the smell of bitterness heavy around them.  
Silence was always there with them, Baekhyun thinks while he stares down at his hands, turning his phone around and around between his long, slender fingers. From the very start, it was there and yet Baekhyun was the one trying to fill it with senseless babbling and unnecessary words, until Minseok taught him that, sometimes, silence really is golden.  
Right now, it’s not. 

It’s like poison festering underneath his skin and he hates that he feels like this.  
He hates the way Minseok sighs after each little sip of his coffee, eyes fixed on a point on the wall on the other side of the room, even though he’s not really staring at anything at all.  
Baekhyun shifts, drops his phone to the carpet and clears his throat as he picks it up again, letting it slide off his palm and onto the table that seems like a wall between them.  
The little LED in the top left corner is flashing blue, but Baekhyun doesn’t feel like checking his messages just yet. Maybe not ever.  
Minseok is looking at him, when he lifts his eyes away from the screen, their eyes meeting across the coffee steam, table and grey carpet. There is a tiny frown pulling at the corners of his mouth and yet he reminds Baekhyun so much of the man sitting in that cab, hair windswept and tie dripping with red wine, twirling a golden ring around his finger again and again even when Baekhyun got into the car unbidden and, really, unwelcomed.  
“When you tell me you’re fine”, Minseok starts slowly and he almost sounds fond as he talks. “You’re lying. All the time. You lie to me when you tell me you’re not drunk, you’re not sick, you’ve eaten. I felt… more like a father to you than…”  
“A lover?”, Baekhyun finishes the sentence for him and the frown deepens in the lines of his cheeks that normally dimple with his smiles. And he has such a bright smile, Baekhyun thinks to himself, even brighter than his own. Or is it because Minseok’s smiles are true, while his own never really are?  
“Yes.”, Minseok nods then, bringing the coffee cup up to his lips again and Baekhyun realizes that it’s the very coffee cup with the little crack at the rim, the little paint stain Minseok’s finger left there this one time Baekhyun thought it would be funny to paint his nails blue when he was sleeping.  
“Do you really think that?”

 

Interlude 2: As the walls wave their goodbye smiles

“Hi.”, Minseok says with a smile so bright, it nearly splits Baekhyun’s aching, pounding head into pieces as he sways on his feet, groaning as he hides his face in the crook of his arm, braced against the door. Minseok laughs, breathless and beautiful and Baekhyun curses him to hell and back for being up so bright and early - and awake, most of all.  
“I brought you takeout.”, he tells Baekhyun as he brushes past him into his tiny studio apartment, into the open kitchenette. The place probably smells like dirty dishes and old clothes, but Minseok doesn’t comment on it for once, as he stacks some plates into the sink and starts searching for a new one.  
“Are you going to stand there all day?”, he teases while he turns on his heel, pointing a hand down at Baekhyun’s sticky table, littered with soda cans and empty cereal boxes.  
He blinks, confused, until he notices he’s still leaning against the open apartment door, his arm slowly starting to prick with needles as it falls asleep against his cheek. He has a trail of dried drool stuck to the corner of his mouth, grains of dirt stuck in the corners of his eyes where he didn’t take his eyeliner off last night. And yet Minseok is standing there, smile tender around the edges while offering a plate of greasy burgers and fries to him, the one he prepared for himself sitting on the counter next to the now neat stack of gross plates and moldy coffee cups.  
“I… didn’t clean up.”, Baekhyun says lamely and Minseok snorts, eyes flickering to the side and to the sink, his mouth opening and closing as if he wants to scold him for it, but all he says is: “It’s fine. Sit down and eat, alright?”  
“Couch.”, Baekhyun gets out over his tongue that feels like cotton candy in his mouth. Dry and rough.  
“I can’t sit upright.”  
“Alright.”, Minseok agrees with a laugh hidden in the lilt of his tongue. In his own apartment, Minseok would never allow them to eat on the couch and yet he simply grabs the two plates and makes his way over to the couch without even sparing a glance back at where Baekhyun is trying to kick the door shut despite the fact that there is a shoe stuck between it and the doorframe.  
“Baekhyun.”, Minseok suddenly says beside him and there is a strong arm appearing in his line of sight, prying his fingers away from the door handle, pulling him back against Minseok’s body as he kicks the stuck shoe away.  
“I’m sorry.”, Baekhyun blurts out, leaning back against Minseok’s chest when he notices the other isn’t letting him go, his head tilting back until it rests against the other’s shoulder, Minseok’s lips flickering across his slightly sweaty temple. “I know I promised I won’t drink that much anymore.”  
“It was a special occasion.”, Minseok gives back softly, pressing a peck to the bone of Baekhyun’s cheek. “Your brother is getting married after all. Bachelor parties are supposed to be spent drunk.”  
“Still.”, Baekhyun whispers back and hums when he feels soft, curved lips travel over his cheek, down to his jaw. “I promised.”  
“You don’t owe me anything.”, Minseok replies in a whisper directly into his ear and Baekhyun feels himself shudder, melting back against the hard lines of the other man’s body until they are pressed together and Minseok sways just slightly with the added weight of Baekhyun against him. 

“I kind of do.”, Baekhyun breathes back and this time, Minseok stays mum. He stays so silent, Baekhyun knows there is something going on in that head of his.  
Sometimes he thinks, he is not the only one battling demons, although to him it seems as if their monsters are as different as they can be. For him, it’s the throbbing headaches he wakes up to, the strange beds he rolls out of or into and can barely remember his own address, as drunk as he is sometimes. For Minseok, the monsters are late nights without sleep, his head filled with things Baekhyun can’t even begin to understand - or try to. He never really does. He doesn’t ask about the ring still on Minseok’s finger, the office he keeps tightly locked in his own apartment, whenever Baekhyun is around. While the key is in the lock, it’s always tightly turned and Baekhyun doesn’t dare to ask, why. They both have their own problems and while Minseok is the one tending to Baekhyun during the mornings after, Baekhyun never asks for his.  
“Eat.”, Minseok finally mutters and presses a rather wet kiss to the shell of his ear, dragging him away from the door and onto the couch, settling on the cushion beside him as their legs tangle and Baekhyun steals the crispy little fries off of Minseok’s plate. He falls asleep with Minseok’s fingers combing through his hair, his head resting on the other man’s thigh, fingers playing with a loose thread on the seam running along his knee.  
It’s rare for Minseok to leave the house in something else than jeans or suit pants and yet Baekhyun doesn’t mind the grey sweats, the slightly-too-big shirt he is wearing and the scent of laundry detergent still clinging to the fabric where he has his nose buried in Minseok’s lower stomach.  
“You can sleep.”, Minseok tells him, fingers curling into his soft blond hair. “I won’t leave.”  
It’s a broken promise, always. At least it is to Baekhyun, who is used to empty beds and empty couches and not even a single note left for him to read as he is left behind with a bruising heart. 

Minseok isn’t on the couch anymore when Baekhyun opens his eyes, the soap opera playing in the background turned so quiet, he can barely hear it anymore over the sound of clinking plates and running water from the open kitchenette.  
“What are you doing?”, he mumbles into the pillow underneath his head and tries not to miss Minseok’s thigh, even though he is sure he would have woken to a stiff neck and an even worse headache. The water stops, something wet hits the plastic counter.  
“I cleaned up your kitchen.”, Minseok answers from above and there is a gentle hand on the back of his neck, smoothing over the heated skin. He turns his face, reaches out to grasp Minseok’s pants where they are wide around his shin.  
Minseok breathes out a laugh, bends down to kiss the top of his head and drags a thumb over his bottom lip, propping a small pill into his mouth when Baekhyun willingly lets his jaw fall open.  
“Whaffthis?”, Baekhyun tries to get out around it, curls his fingers around the glass of water Minseok holds out for him to take so he can swallow the little pill.  
“Painkillers.”, Minseok replies with a crooked smile as he sinks down onto the couch, maneuvering Baekhyun’s head around so he’s resting on his lap again, fingers pressing into the painful knobs along his nape. He groans in relief upon the touch, pushing his face into Minseok’s thigh as he wiggles closer, arms stretching across the man’s lap with his fingers stretched apart wide.  
“Thank you.”, Baekhyun mumbles barely intelligible, words muffled by Minseok’s sweatpants.  
“What for?”, Minseok asks and he sounds surprised - Baekhyun is sure he has his eyebrows raised and a small smile curling the corners of his mouth.  
“For always taking care of me.”, he gives back and the fingers on his nape still for a second, squeezing as his eyes fall shut and he drifts off to sleep, for once sure that when he wakes up, he won’t be alone anymore. 

 

Part 3: And it was the saddest smile I ever saw 

“Do you regret now....? Not kicking me out of that taxi?”, Baekhyun asks into the silence in the room, the sky outside already paling as the clock ticks closer and closer to five am.  
Minseok looks at him for a long time, his eyebrows knotting together above his dark, dark eyes and then he shakes his head, bottom lip between his teeth before he lets go of it, shiny with spit and slightly red where he dragged his teeth over the sensitive skin. And Baekhyun can’t help but to think of all the times he saw those lips kiss-red and glistening with his release. He always thought Minseok is beautiful, in his own way. The way he grins, all gums and teeth, his eyes crinkling and with his nose slightly scrunching up always makes him look so young and reckless - like a flame, flickering orange and bright. Baekhyun always kind of was the moth getting burned by that fire.  
It wasn’t the man’s smile that lured him in, not at first. It was the dark look out of even darker chocolate eyes from underneath a damp fringe of black hair, the way his fingers curled into the rich fabric of his slacks when Baekhyun nearly begged him to share the cab, drunk and cut loose off a thread that held him for a little bit too long. Minseok was always beautiful to Baekhyun and he still is, even while his eyes shine with an expression that is more a broken heart than anything else.  
“You don’t?”, Baekhyun asks meekly and Minseok scoffs, turning his head to the side before looking down into his lap, where he is playing with the silver cufflink dangling from his rolled-up sleeve.  
“No…”, he whispers then, wetting over his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. “Not at all. I think I regret a big number of things, but not that.”  
“Minseok”, Baekhyun starts, but the other lifts a hand and cuts him off before he is even able to start his apology. The spot where Minseok always wore his golden ring, is bare and pale against the slight tan he called his own during summer and is now slowly fading.  
“Why exactly are you here again, Baekhyun?”, he rumbles out and leans forward to place his empty glass on the table with a sound so final, it has Baekhyun shuddering. “You’re the one who left and never really cared enough to fix things between us. You’ve chosen to run again and I can’t even be angry at you… honestly. I knew you’re not… not someone who likes to be strapped down.”  
“That’s not true.”, Baekhyun defends himself heatedly and nearly knocks the coffee pot to the side as he reaches out for Minseok’s hand quickly enough to grasp it before the other can pull away from him.  
“You know that’s not true, Minseok! I didn’t… I didn’t mean to run. But you told me to leave and I- I did. You wanted me gone so I went and-”

“I told you to leave me alone, not leave completely.”, Minseok cuts him off angrily and for the first time since the door swung shut between them five days ago, there is something else in his voice than sadness and disappointment. Baekhyun can deal with anger, he can deal with hate.  
But hearing Minseok sound so defeated in this one, single voicenote he sent the first night when Baekhyun tried to call him, beg him to open the door and let him in… it broke his heart as well.  
Maybe they broke each other’s hearts too many times over this one year they spent falling in and out of each other’s beds, in and out of each other’s lives.  
“I thought you… didn’t want me anymore because of what I did.”, Baekhyun whispers and Minseok twitches - almost as if he wants to rip his hand out of Baekhyun’s hold. But he doesn’t.  
Instead he looks down at their hands, his thumb pressing down into the table before his eyes flicker upwards again, meeting Baekhyun’s own.  
“You were tainted when I met you and I accepted that from the very beginning.”, Minseok tells him so softly, Baekhyun isn’t sure he really hears him speak at all. “I never cared for the number of people you slept with, or all the people you hooked up when you were drunk out of your mind after a shift at the bar. But… you cared, Baekhyun. You cared more about the people I’ve been with, than you cared about me being with you.”  
He can’t even call Minseok a liar, now. Not again.  
Never again. 

 

Interlude 3: I think that I am just a little ill with life 

Minseok’s golden ring lies forgotten on the nightstand and yet Baekhyun can see it out of the corner of his eyes, even while he tosses his head back and grinds down, feeling Minseok’s fingers flex on his hips to hold him still while he bucks up helplessly. Baekhyun can feel him pulse and throb inside of him, hot and velvety soft as he thinks one day he’s going to burst open with the feeling of being too full, too light-headed from the way Minseok trembles underneath him. It’s a simple piece of jewelry, really nothing special and yet in it’s own simple beauty, it holds a meaning Baekhyun doesn’t want to think about. He tries to concentrate on the feeling of Minseok’s length dragging along his inner walls, across his sweet spot so he can have stars exploding along the back of his eyes and curling at the base of his spine. He tries desperately to think about the burning in his thighs, the way they quiver with the strength he has to muster up to lift himself off of Minseok’s lap to drop down again, hearing them both moan breathlessly. Minseok’s hand smoothes up his thigh then, hot and heavy and Baekhyun sees it lift in his peripheral, fluttering like a lost little butterfly.  
He reaches for it, interlaces their fingers and drops forward, pressing hot kisses into Minseok’s slack mouth while their hands tangle in the other’s hair and pillow. He’s mindless in his desire and the abyss of his own thoughts and while he has his eyes closed to kiss Minseok, he can finally forget about the golden ring on the nightstand and the locked office and the picture frame turned glass-down in the living room. He wonders, sometimes, if Minseok only turns it whenever he comes over and the thought hurts like a knife between his ribs.  
“Baekhyun.”, Minseok breathes out and he sounds reverent, lost almost.  
He only kisses him harder, swallows his moans and little noises of pleasure that always are engraved in the back of Baekhyun’s mind for days after he heard them in the first place.  
Minseok is no selfish lover and yet he takes what he needs, whenever he needs it.  
Baekhyun is all too willing to give, although deep down he knows that, perhaps, he is the one taking in the end while Minseok gives him more than he actually deserves. 

“You’re married, aren’t you?”, Baekhyun asks that morning when Minseok comes back, snowflakes in his hair and cheeks pink from winds too harsh against his skin. He is standing by the bookshelf in the living room, the picture frame between his hands and the long streak of grey morning light falling through the gap between the curtains illuminates the photograph he holds almost a little too perfectly.  
“What?”, Minseok asks, rooted to the spot where he is pulling out of his boots, the bag with freshly baked pastry dangling from his wrist, two paper cups with hot chocolate balanced on his palm.  
“You’re married.”, Baekhyun accuses again and turns the picture so Minseok can see it - as if he’s not aware what kind of picture stands on his bookshelf, always turned away from them. “Don’t lie to me.”  
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”, Minseok gives back almost a little too patiently, but there is a hard edge to his eyes and voice and mouth. “Put it back.”  
“Why?”, Baekhyun asks, challenging and squares his jaw, shoulders pulling straight when he sees Minseok straightening up as well, kicking his boots to the side while he takes a couple of steps into Baekhyun’s direction.  
“Because you really don’t know what you’re talking about.”, Minseok hisses and this time, Baekhyun snaps. He has taken Minseok’s anger countless times, as Minseok has taken his. They had their fights and fall-outs, but Baekhyun never really thought he cared enough to all but yell:  
“You’re lying to me, all this time! You were this damned ring, turn this picture frame away from me all the time and you never - you never fucking tell me anything about yourself, Minseok! I have no fucking idea who you really are!”  
“Don’t you?”, Minseok snaps back and Baekhyun scoffs, tosses the picture frame carelessly onto the couch to his left, seeing it bounce and fall to the floor, shattering. Minseok doesn’t even flinch at the sound of the breaking glass, only stares at him with angry, angry eyes. “What do you want to know, hm? Didn’t you have all the time in the world to ask me at least a million questions? You never cared for anything but my job and my hobbies, so why does it matter now?”  
“Because you have a freaking wife?!”, Baekhyun screeches, flailing and Minseok snarls wordlessly while he makes to pass him on his way to the door. “You have a wife and you wear a wedding ring and you only ever take it off when you fuck me. Go fuck yourself, Minseok.”  
There is hot chocolate, spilling onto the edge of the carpet, when Minseok whirls on him, grabbing him by the neck. They slam into the wall, the plastic bag with their breakfast trapped between their bodies and Baekhyun trembles with the sudden closeness, the way Minseok’s eyes keep him pinned like a paper butterfly against cardboard.  
“Let me go.”, Baekhyun growls, pushing both his hands against Minseok’s chest in a feeble attempt to get him off and while the other barely has an inch on him, he is much broader, so much stronger and if Baekhyun is really honest with himself, he doesn’t even want him to step away. “Let me the fuck go, you liar. You fucking liar.”  
He shakes with heat flooding his veins as Minseok’s head drops forward onto his shoulder and he feels him shake just as hard - a sudden, broken sound bubbling over the other’s lips.  
It’s too late to realize and yet Baekhyun knows that Minseok is crying. He just doesn’t know why.  
Baekhyun has cried thousand nights in Minseok’s arms, on his lap or in his bed. And Minseok was always the strong one, the one to stay quiet and hide his pain with stoic masks of emotionless indifference. But there he stands, quivering against Baekhyun’s body and it seems there is nothing he can do but to hold on to him, one hand curled into Baekhyun’s side while the other is balled against the wall.  
“Don’t call me that.”, Minseok whispers brokenly and he sounds as if he’s begging. “I never lied. Not to you. I have lied to countless people, but never to you.”  
And Baekhyun can do nothing but to hold on as well, shocked into silence as he wraps both his arms around Minseok’s sobbing body, fingers pushing into his hair as he turns his head to kiss behind Minseok’s ear. He doesn’t press the matter, doesn’t ask and Minseok doesn’t talk. 

 

Part 4: Through wire and fog and dog-bark

Baekhyun watches Minseok by the window, back turned towards him while he exhales a blue-ish cloud of cigarette smoke, the smell sharp in his nose even while his sense feel dulled with coffee and liquor. The breeze from outside carries the smoke into the apartment, with all the sounds of the city waking up around them and Baekhyun remembers all the early mornings and sleepless nights they spent sitting on the balcony, smoking and talking and drinking too much of Minseok’s expensive red wines. Minseok has his tie undone by now, the front of his shirt unbuttoned and he looks so much like the man from that cab nearly a year ago, it has Baekhyun’s heart hammering in his chest.  
“I never wanted you to find out.”, Minseok says suddenly, shattering the silence and Baekhyun remembers broken glass underneath his feet and hands, as they had tumbled onto the couch and into bed, back then.  
“Why?”, Baekhyun whispers back and Minseok shakes his head, gaze tilting down, watching where he is turning the small cigarette between his fingers. Round and round it goes, just a glowing red spot in the still-darkness of the morning. He watches Minseok purse his lips, work his jaw back and forth as if he’s chewing on his own words, before he sighs and explains: “Because I knew you wouldn’t understand, Baekhyun. People never do. I was… I was the one who left her because…” 

He gestures, helplessly, into Baekhyun’s general direction. Between them. To the things they have done and all the kisses they shared. 

“I knew I couldn’t be with her anymore, even though my parents wanted me to. Everybody said I should just… stop being like that.”, he adds then, clearing his throat before he takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling through his nose. Baekhyun finds himself getting up, then, stepping up behind Minseok while the other man stares out into the silver sky, his thumb scratching at the loose paper around his cigarette filter.  
“Was I the rebound?”  
“You mean”, Minseok chuckles, bitterly. “Like I was the rebound for you, all the time? No. You were… the first one I actually considered. Worth trying. I thought you wouldn’t judge me and I was wrong.”  
“I didn’t judge you.”, Baekhyun disagrees and dares to let his head tip forward until his head is resting in the space between Minseok’s shoulders. “I still don’t. And I’m… I’m sorry, Minseok. I’m so, so sorry. I was scared of you leaving me. I was… scared of not being good enough because - because I never am. Good enough, that is.”  
“You’re a pest.”, Minseok agrees with a exhaled laugh, tasting of tobacco. “But…”  
“Minseok.”, Baekhyun mutters and the other falls silent, twirling his cigarette between the tips of his fingers before flicking it away, watching it tumble over the banister of his balcony and into the abyss of the streets underneath. An abyss filled with people who judge them, who don’t understand.  
“I love you, you know?”, Minseok suddenly laughs and there are tears in his voice. “I think I… realized when you told me you slept with somebody else.”  
“I kissed someone else.”, Baekhyun corrects him, huffing. Finally curling his arms around Minseok’s middle and pressing closer, until he feels a hand settle over his wrists, holding him still as they stand there in the darkness of Minseok’s living room, only the light from the open hallway falling in long golden streaks across the familiar, chocolate stained carpet. “But I couldn’t sleep with him. You just never… listened to me when I tried to tell you.”  
“Why?”, Minseok wants to know and turns in his embrace, the open flaps of his shirt pulling taut across his sides where they are trapped by Baekhyun’s arms. “Why not?”  
“Because I am nothing without you.”, Baekhyun answers and Minseok’s lips twist into a frown. So he adds, correcting himself quickly: “I am nothing without you because you know who I am, Minseok. You know my faults and my flaws and still you love me.”  
“Do you love me, too?”, Minseok wants to know after moments of silence between them, fingers stroking up the side of Baekhyun’s face and spanning across his jaw. “Be honest. Break my heart, if you have to. But don’t tell me you love me, if you don’t mean it.”  
They pause, Baekhyun’s eyes fluttering closed at the familiar, dearly missed touch. Five days and he feels as if he’s starving. A man in the desert, desperate for that little bit of shade.  
“I loved you longer.”, is the only thing he tells Minseok, before the other’s lips are on his, kissing him so deeply it’s as if he’s trying to reach into him and touch his soul with his lips. And he kisses back, desperate and ravenous, holding onto Minseok’s shoulders like a lifeline.  
There are hands on either side of his face, angling his head and holding him close as they kiss too hard, too quick and nearly painful. He pulls on Minseok’s shirt, presses so close he thinks he could as well be crawling into his body and skin. And yet Minseok answers him with the same vigor, the same desperation and Baekhyun thinks to himself how stupid they were, still are. 

Minseok sometimes seems like an overwhelming presence to Baekhyun.  
He is used to the way the other’s body is covering his, pushing him down into the mattress with as much skin touching as possible. And yet it always seems as if he’s prey to a predator unknown to humanity, no matter if he’s the one on top and Minseok is pinned underneath him, so soft and willing. But right now it is as if Minseok’s arms could carry the weight of the world, his muscles bulging on either side of Baekhyun’s head while he’s clawing at the undershirt Minseok wore under his pristine white dress shirt, long forgotten on the floor with Baekhyun’s own. The world isn’t big enough right now and not small enough either as they kiss slow and filthy - and yet so gently, Baekhyun’s entire chest aches with it. He pushes up against Minseok, legs hooked together while Minseok sucks bruises into his collarbones that won’t fade quickly enough, while Baekhyun scratches down his back under his shirt, feeling skin under his fingernails.  
But Minseok doesn’t make a sound, only hums against his skin and bucks against him, his cock pressing against the side of Baekhyun’s own, pulsing in his pants. He mewls, lifts when Minseok’s hands push underneath him, their hips flush against each other and Baekhyun thinks he might be losing his mind, just a little. He loses his mind with Minseok’s mouth on his length, one hand holding him down against the bed with only the fly of Baekhyun’s pants undone and the tip of his cock resting heavy on Minseok’s tongue. He is burning up from the inside out at the wet slide of the other’s tongue against him, tracing the veins running just underneath the head, the slick sounds of lube against his rim with a finger pushing into him too slow and too fast at the same time. He feels loose and unrestrained, like a dog freed from a chain and he claws as Minseok’s shoulders in senseless pleasure, stretched too wide and not wide enough. He wishes, for only a moment, to drag this out as long as he can and yet he can’t. 

He is the liar here, Baekhyun thinks while letting his hips lift off the bed, desperate for every little touch he can get, every little bit of skin he can reach and touch and taste.  
And Minseok covers him, head to toe, lips to lips - as if he wants to shield him from the world in his arms and under his body. He takes his time, tonight and Baekhyun isn’t sure if he likes it or hates it.  
Hates, how every kiss feels like goodbye. How every slide of Minseok’s length into his body feels as if they are doing this for the first and yet, in the same moment, the last time.  
Minseok’s fingers are in his hair, not pulling and not pushing. Just holding on so tenderly while he kisses him with deep strokes of his tongue, letting him taste himself and the bitter tears Minseok didn’t cry in those endless days spent stupid and angry and in denial.  
The world isn’t big enough to live in it on his own, Baekhyun hears Minseok’s voice whisper into his ear - an echo of one of those long evenings watching idiotic action movies and eventually falling asleep on the couch together, intertwined too tightly. Only to wake up sore and stiff and groaning in pain together. He wants Minseok to teach him how to breathe without air, his lungs filled with water as he can’t even moan anymore, only clutching the other against himself so tightly, he thinks they will break apart like glass figurines.  
There was always a future in Minseok’s eyes and Baekhyun was just too blind to see it.  
He does now, rolling upwards against him to wrap his arms and legs around him. He’s brushing so close to the edge, he thinks he’s fading into nothingness with the way Minseok is looking at him, one hand on his cheek to keep their eyes locked together while they rock against each other.  
Pushing and pulling as they always have.  
And he knows why he was scared from the very start, why Minseok kept pulling and yet pushing him away. He can’t let go of a home, as soon as he found it and it was the fear of never being able to let go, that kept them apart. He doesn’t want to, Baekhyun always knew. But does he really have to, eventually? They fall apart, one after the other - Baekhyun already so sensitive, he all but sobs when he feels Minseok come inside, still so abruptly, he hiccups on a stuttering breath, their foreheads pressed together.  
And there is something in Minseok’s eyes, his palm cupping the width of Baekhyun’s cheek while they breathe against each other, that speaks too loudly for Baekhyun to ignore any longer.  
They were both so alone, at times, it all just started to make sense.  
“I’m sorry.”, Minseok kisses into the corner of his mouth and Baekhyun feels himself smile.  
“I’m sorry for loving you too much.”  
And Baekhyun thinks that, maybe, his heart can never beat without him, ever again.


End file.
